


Ex Machina

by DickWhitmansCat



Category: Doctor Who, Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: M/M, UNIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickWhitmansCat/pseuds/DickWhitmansCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve read everything about you that exists on this planet, sir.  You’ve got blood on your hands same as the rest of us.”</p>
<p>A rooftop conversation about the past, the future and the Osterhagen key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ex Machina

They were shadows in an already ink-dark night: two men in suits and ties, finding their comfort in silence. On the edge of a skyscraper’s roof, the space between them was bridged by alcohol of an ungodly expensive vintage. They said nothing for a long, long time.

The visibly older of the two, he of the goatee and the sharpness all around, finally breached.  “I thought you might come one day.”

A smile flickered across his friend’s face, stopping short of his eyes.  “Did you?  That’s…funny, is what it is.  And by funny, I mean sad, and by sad, I mean, well—really?”

It was Tony’s turn to almost smile.  “Yeah.  I did.”

“S’not often I don’t have to explain myself,” the Doctor conceded.  “I think I like it.”

Tony arched an eyebrow.  “You not one of those types who uses your intelligence as bait, then?”

“Oh, no, far from it, that’s completely me.  Hook, line, and sinker, you’ve nailed the very essence of how I infiltrate in basic social situations.”  The Doctor sniffed and scratched at his nose.  “Mind you, it doesn’t always work.”

“I like it when it doesn’t work,” Tony admitted.  “It gives me something to earn.”

“Oh, you are clever,” the Doctor teased mirthlessly.  “And what have you got once you’ve earned that, eh?  Ah-ha!”

“Touché.”  Tony made as if he were about to refill his empty glass, then thought better of it.  Eyes narrowed, he swigged straight from the bottle.

“How long have you been expecting me?”  The Doctor snatched the bottle away from Tony.  Pulling out his glasses and putting them on, he inspected the label.

“Hey!”  Tony protested weakly.  “I don’t know.  Since whatever age I hacked into UNIT’s central server.  Nine?  Ten?”

The Doctor nodded, setting the bottle aside.  “Caused quite a scare, that did.”

“I had an idea of what Dad did. I mean, guns, airplanes, to a kid that makes  _sense_.  It’s just that, at that age, you don’t know who the bad guys are.  Hell, you don’t know if the bad guys really exist.  For all you know, the world’s at war with the monster that eats stray socks in the dryer.  And after a while, the ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ thing isn’t enough to go on, you know what I mean?  So I decided to find out for myself.  And I did.”

The Doctor looked away from Tony, expression controlled, blank.  He ran a finger along the rim of the bottle.  “You did, yes.”

“The designations were all there.  The technology in those days was all so sloppy.  It makes my head hurt to think about, really.  Getting into the company’s server was easy, mostly ‘cause I knew how Dad operated, but once I was there, it was enough to make my head spin.  Jesus, I was nine.  The projects fell under designations like ‘domestic’ and ‘global’, which I understood, but then the subcategories blew my mind.  ‘Terrestrial defense’ and ‘terrestrial intelligence’ versus ‘universal’.  I had no clue.  And so I dug and dug and dug until I’d cleared a path into a network I didn’t recognize.”

“UNIT,” the Doctor supplied, sucking the alcohol off his finger.

“Yeah.  And I read their file on you.”

The Doctor snorted.  “I’m sure it paints quite the picture.”

“You have no idea.”  Tony poured himself half a glass of his overpriced poison.  “Later in college, I’d tap in and read other stuff.  UNIT’s easy enough to crack.  Torchwood’s a little harder, but not impossible.  And believe me, the stuff those guys have on you is far less flattering.”

“I’m sure.”  The Doctor slackened his tie a bit.  “Nowadays, I’d imagine they’ve got a bit of a file on you.”

“Probably.”  Tony downed the contents of his glass in a single swallow, wincing.  “They’re none too happy with me right now.  UNIT, either.”  He glanced over at the Doctor, who seemed to be staring so mournfully at the city as if it could evaporate in front of him at any second.  “That’s why you’re here.  You knew.”

“I did know,” the Doctor muttered, voice lower and darker than it had been all night.  “I knew the name had to be a red herring.  Osterhagen key?  UNIT doesn’t have the resources to create such a thing internally, and Torchwood’s too busy chasing their own figurative tail.  There’s only one organization on this planet smart  _and_  stupid enough to create such an aberration.” 

“I’m humbled by your kind words, really,” Tony returned coolly.  “I don’t know if you’ve paid any attention to the headlines round these parts, but I’m not in the business of destruction anymore.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” the Doctor snapped.

“Nor is it yours.  I’ve read everything about you that exists on this planet, sir.  You’ve got blood on your hands same as the rest of us.”

The Doctor couldn’t argue, and so he didn’t.  “I didn’t come to berate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I came—“ The Doctor faltered a bit.  “I’m here to tell you…I understand.”

“You understand?”  Tony gaped at him.  “You  _understand_?  Of all the condescending bullshit—“

“Tony, please—“

“This was never what I wanted to do.  I never thought I’d have to carry the family name further than I could throw it.  Believe it or not, I had things I wanted to do in life.  Things that had nothing to do with weapons or ‘universal intelligence’…” 

“And why didn’t you?  Your father had wealth, power—“

“And I thought he’d live forever.”  The words came out croaked, part sob, part excuse.  Tony bit his lip and laughed, the sound hollow in his throat.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”  Tony slid back off the ledge and climbed to his feet.

“Tony—“  The Doctor bounded after Tony apologetically. 

Tony turned to face the Doctor.  “Look.  I don’t quite know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but whatever it is, I don’t want to be a part of it.  I don’t need another voice trying to override my conscience or lack thereof, and I  _definitely_ don’t need anyone or anything else goading me into that trap of self-analytical bullshit that I’ve lost way too much time in already—“

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the Doctor said softly, face almost totally in shadow.  “If anything, I’m here as a reminder.”

“Of what?” Tony demanded. 

“Let me show you.”  The Doctor stepped confidently toward him.  “Close your eyes.” 

“Okay then.”  Following the directive, Tony felt cold fingertips close in on his temples.  Sucking in a deep breath, he instantly felt something that scared him more than anything had in a long time.

_Don’t be scared.  Please_ , the voice suddenly inside his head demanded.   _I won’t see anything you don’t want me to.  This time, it’s you who needs to see._

An unfamiliar memory flooded his mind as clearly as if it were his own.  A bank of computers –  _old_  computers, the kind that took up a whole room – blinked and buzzed, and a gaggle of men in uniform hovered over a monitor.  From the sound of it, they clearly were quite upset. 

“This level breach is unheard of,” barked one.

“Unheard of?  It’s dangerous,” countered another.  “We have to do something.”

“We are doing something,” replied a voice from across the room.  From the looks of the uniform, the voice belonged to a superior officer.  “We’ve tracked the whereabouts of the disturbance and officers will be dispatched immediately to apprehend the child.”

“I’m afraid you can’t do that, Brigadier.”  Even if he hadn’t seen pictures of the white-haired man in the velvet suit, Tony would have instantly known who was speaking.   

The Brigadier bristled.  “Doctor, I’m afraid we have no choice.”

“You always have a choice, Brigadier,” the white-haired man said calmly.  “The boy will do you no harm, I can assure you.”

“Doctor, if a child can wreak this sort of havoc on our mainframe, he is a danger to himself and others.  We must take him in at once—“

“And take him from his family only to imprison him?  I absolutely cannot stand for that.  This child is far more valuable than you realize.  Leave him be.”

“But sir—“ called out one of the officers.  “We can’t willingly leave ourselves vulnerable like this!”

The Brigadier looked suspiciously at the Doctor.  Clearing his throat, he finally announced, “Gentlemen, we need stronger levels of security on our databases.  I believe the Doctor just volunteered to help.” 

The fingers pulled away from Tony’s temples.  When he finally opened his eyes, they were wet. 

“You knew,” he whispered, and the Doctor nodded. 

“You are who you are meant to be.  This planet and the universe that surrounds it are yours to protect, every last inch.  That power runs deep, and whatever you do, it’s not to be taken for granted.”

“How do you stand it?  The cost?”

“The price of doing right is nothing compared to the alternative,” the Doctor whispered sadly, looking away.  “I carry with me all that I’ve lost, all that I’ve left behind.  My planet, my people—“  He swallowed.  “—everyone I’ve ever loved and lost.  The only way I know to honor their memory is to do right by the universe, whatever that takes.”

“Easier said than done,” Tony admitted.  “At the end of the day, is it really worth it? Being alone?”

“You aren’t alone.  Never were, never will be.”   Smiling softly, the Doctor leaned in and pressed his lips to Tony’s forehead.  Stunned by the gentle simplicity of it, Tony sunk into the Doctor’s arms.   The same cool fingers slid up into his hair, stroking it lightly.

“If I promise to come back and clean up my messes, can I come with you?” Tony whispered against the crook of the Doctor’s neck.  “It’d be great.  Really.  I could soup up your ship, trick it out with stuff you haven’t even thought of.  I bet there’s stuff out in the far reaches that tastes infinitely better than four grand red straight outta the bottle—“ 

The Doctor tipped Tony’s chin upward.  Eyes intently focused on his, he brushed his lips against Tony’s, his fingers once again coming to rest just above Tony’s cheekbones.  Pushing into it almost desperately, his own fingers grasping at the Doctor’s hair, Tony felt a foreign surge of warmth, protectiveness, and, unbelievably, peace.  His eyes spilled over as he heard the voice in his head.   _One day.  I promise._

Abruptly, the Doctor pulled away, his hands finding his pockets.  Awkwardly, Tony haphazardly dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve as he took a step backwards. 

“I’ll hold up my end if you hold up yours,” Tony said with a watery smile.

“I already have,” the Doctor said, his own eyes filling up as he turned away. 

Picking up the bottle and clutching it to his chest, Tony watched as, with a noisy gust of air, the big blue box vanished.  Swiping his thumb across his bottom lip, he took one last look at the horizon and then disappeared into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in 2009 for a friend's birthday. Archiving it here for posterity's sake.


End file.
